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It was past three in the morning when Shouta Aizawa found himself dragging his exhausted feet down the hall of UA towards the faculty room. Much later than he’d intended. And he felt every minute of it in his bruised bones. His eyes felt dry and gluey, and his limbs were heavy with exhaustion. Everything hurt and was begging for rest.
But needs must.
Tomorrow’s lesson plan wasn’t going to write itself.
Shouta was limping on a twisted ankle, and his face was throbbing where he’d taken a heavy blow to the jaw. He could feel that familiar tingling pain that accompanied swelling. Recovery Girl would want to have a look at it. Make sure nothing was fractured.
I’ll worry about it later.
Approaching the faculty room, Shouta reached for the knob and twisted it, pushing the heavy door open with his shoulder. He stopped short.
One of the lamps was on.
Shouta’s hair rippled, and he reached for his capture weapon as his eyes glowed faintly. Only for a moment. He caught sight of a familiar shock of yellow hair spraying out from behind a computer screen. One of many screens in a long line, with a kitchenette on the left side of the room, and some plush seating on the right.
A second later, Toshinori Yagi’s face appeared above the screen as he looked to see who had entered. The blond’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Aizawa?”
Shouta relaxed, letting go of his binding cloth and sighing, a slight frown pulling the corners of his mouth.
“Toshinori. What the hell are you doing here so late?” Shouta’s injured face burned as he spoke, and a sharp pain lanced through the hinge of his jaw, causing him to wince involuntarily.
“You’re hurt!” Toshinori was already out of his chair, his long, lean body loping around the side of the desk and hurrying towards Shouta urgently.
“I’m fine,” Shouta said, hooding his eyes under low, tired brows.
In truth, he didn’t feel fine. He felt like shit. But it wasn’t anything unfamiliar. He hadn’t reached his limit, which meant the pain was irrelevant.
Besides, being fussed over by a colleague was one thing. But being fussed over by the colleague that was also his crush? That would be unbearable.
“You’ve got blood all over your face,” Toshinori said, reaching up to tilt Shouta’s head back in an attempt to examine it. Shouta reflexively brushed his hand away, feeling his cheeks turn pink.
“It’s just a scratch. Head wounds bleed a lot, that’s all.”
“Don’t be stupid. Go sit down, I’ll grab the first aid kit.” Toshinori was already hurrying towards the faculty kitchenette.
“Yagi,” Shouta grumbled. “Don’t go all mother hen on me.”
Toshinori crouched down and opened a cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit and rising, knees popping loudly as he did so. He turned back towards Shouta and walked toward him on quick, long strides.
“I told you to go sit,” Toshinori said, ignoring Shouta’s remark. “Don’t be stubborn.”
“Yagi,” Shouta said again, but his profound exhaustion had eroded what authority he normally held in his tone, leaving him sounding pathetically hollow.
“Come on,” Toshinori said as he approached, tucking the first aid kit under one arm and tugging at the fabric of Shouta’s sleeve. “Let’s go to the couches.” He gestured towards the corral of plush green furniture at the other end of the room, flanking a low coffee table with a nondescript plant in the center.
Shouta sighed irritably, his face pulling into a sour frown. “Fine,” He turned and limped towards the nearest couch, hating how flustered he was feeling.
“Did you twist your ankle too?” Toshinori said as he followed, his voice pitched high in concern.
“Barely. I’m sure it’ll be fine in a day or two.”
“Sit down, let me see.”
“This isn’t worth the fuss, Yagi,” Shouta said as he lowered his tired bones onto the soft furniture. Which he was certain was a mistake, because the moment he did it, his profound tiredness began transforming into sleepiness. And he didn’t have time for sleep. Not now. There was too much work to be done.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Toshinori was saying. “You know full well you can’t ignore first aid.”
Shouta sighed as Toshinori pushed the plant out of the way and sat down on the coffee table across from Shouta, setting the kit down beside him.
They were close. Toshinori’s long legs brushed against Shouta’s, and Shouta could feel his cheeks heating up again. He glanced away, muttering curses under his breath.
Toshinori tore open an antiseptic wipe and leaned towards Shouta’s face. “Let me see that scrape,” he said softly, reaching out with his free hand and gently tilting Shouta’s head to gain better access. Shouta felt his heart quicken, but he complied, managing to keep his composure.
“That’s a nasty bruise on your jaw,” Toshinori said softly as he dabbed at the scrape on Shouta’s forehead. “It’s already starting to swell. What happened?”
Shouta winced at the sting of antiseptic. “Just a rough fight. I… have trouble against heteromorphs sometimes, especially when they figure out a way to close the distance between us.”
Toshinori grimaced sympathetically, nodding. “That’s rough…”
“It’s fine. I came out on top, and the bastard’s going to jail, so mission accomplished.” Every time Shouta spoke, his jaw lanced with pain, and his eyes began to water.
“Sorry,” Toshinori said, locking eyes with Shouta momentarily. “I shouldn’t be asking you all these questions. It probably hurts to talk with a jaw like that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Shouta said softly, tearing his eyes away from Toshinori’s as his cheeks darkened further.
Toshinori sighed, continuing his ministrations. He dabbed away the debris and stains of blood that had run down Shouta’s face, burning through four antiseptic wipes before he was finished. Once he was satisfied, he applied a gauze pad to the scrape and taped it in place.
“There,” Toshinori said softly, pulling back from Shouta’s face. “Now… let me see your hands.”
Shouta swallowed thickly and held out his hands. Toshinori examined them, wincing at the bruises and bleeding knuckles where they had been rubbed raw against the heteromorph’s thick, cobbled skin.
“I remember those days,” Toshinori said softly, as he took one of Shouta’s hands and placed it on his knee. He reached for more antiseptic wipes, tearing one open and dabbing at the raw flesh. “Close quarters combat is murder on the hands.”
Shouta nodded in response, but his mouth had gone totally dry, and his brain was screaming. This was far more touching than he was prepared for. His face was on fire, and his hands were shaking. He hoped Toshinori just wrote it all off as exhaustion.
Silently, gently, Toshinori wiped away the dried blood and applied bandages to Shouta’s knuckles.
“You should really think about using gloves,” Toshinori said.
“Don’t like them,” Shouta replied flatly.
“Let me have a look at your ankle,” Toshinori said, gingerly pulling at Shouta’s leg, just under his knee. Shouta cursed inwardly as he felt his cheeks grow dark again. He lifted his leg to give Toshinori access to his foot.
Toshinori gently unzipped the boot. Shouta sucked in air through gritted teeth, and bit back a groan as Toshinori pulled the boot away as gently as he could. Next came the sock, which was almost worse than removing the boot. Shouta found himself gripping the fabric of the cushions against the pain that burned and stabbed through his ankle.
“It’s not too swollen, that’s a good sign,” Toshinori said, smiling a little. “It’ll probably heal up fast. I’ll wrap it up and get you some ice.”
“Yagi…”
“Hmm?”
“I c…” Shouta’s dry mouth caught on the word, and he swallowed against his sandpaper throat. “I can wrap my own damn ankle,” he finally managed.
Toshinori furrowed his brow. “But… you don’t have to, you know…”
Shouta sighed, dropping his head against the back of the couch. He was too exhausted to argue.
“Aizawa?”
“Mm…”
“I think you should engage in some total body awareness.”
“What?” Shouta lifted his head off the cushions, eyes hooded skeptically.
“Close your eyes and analyze sources of pain throughout your body. I think you might have been hurt worse than you realize.”
“Seriously?” Shouta made a scoffing sound. “I think I know how hurt I am.”
“Humor me.”
Shouta scoffed again, rolling his eyes. “Fine.”
“Good. Okay, now close your eyes and feel each of your arms, legs, fingers, toes… you know, just consciously feel everything and analyze the pain on a scale. Make sense?”
Shouta sighed, closing his eyes.
All he could feel was Toshinori’s hands on his leg--one gently cradling his ankle, while the other rested under his exposed calf.
Shouta blushed furiously.
Stop it. Focus, you idiot.
Shouta took a deep breath and exhaled, managing to tamp down his flustered nerves and concentrate. If only just.
He was so tired, at first his body simply felt watery and unstable, but as he made the conscious effort to feel each part of his body, throbs of pain sent flashes of memory through his mind. He realized each pain had an identifiable source. The throbbing in his knee was from a back kick to the underside. A roundhouse had caught him in the hip, and the injury was now sending sharp pains into his back and leg. There had also been a series of brutal kidney punches, and bruises in his forearms from blocking countless other attacks. Everything ached as his body tightened up against the pain.
Dammit, he’s right…
Shouta opened his eyes.
“Okay, where else?” Toshinori said. “What is the worst?”
“Ankle and knee on the left, and my hip on the right.”
“Anything else?”
“Just… bruising. Mid back, and on my forearms.”
“You sure that’s everything?”
Shouta nodded.
“Okay… I’ll get some ice.”
Toshinori gingerly lowered Shouta’s foot to the floor, and before Shouta could say anything, the blond was off the table and halfway to the kitchenette. Shouta sighed, closing his eyes again and leaning his head against the back of the couch. The sound of Toshinori’s shoes clicking on the floor, the freezer being opened, the shuffling of frozen items being rifled through, all immediately began to lull him towards sleep.
You don’t have time for this, Shouta… you’ve got a lesson plan to write…
A few moments later, Toshinori’s footsteps approached. Shouta opened his eyes just as Toshinori dropped an armful of ice packs on the couch beside him, and started scooting the coffee table closer to the couch. He arranged pillows on the table’s surface to help support Shouta’s knee and ankle, then gently lifted Shouta’s leg and placed it on the bed of pillows.
One hand under Shouta’s knee, the other gently cupping the back of Shouta’s ankle.
Shouta’s nerves were vibrating so much, it took every ounce of concentration for him to keep from leaping right off the couch.
“There,” Toshinori said. “Keep it elevated for awhile to help the swelling.” He reached for the ice packs and arranged them gently on Shouta’s knee and ankle, then handed one to Shouta, pointedly avoiding his gaze. “For... your hip,” he said.
Is that… is Yagi… blushing?
Shouta felt his own cheeks heat up as he tried to calm the rush he was suddenly feeling. He let out a breath he hadn’t realizing he was holding and took the proffered ice pack.
“Thanks...” Shouta’s voice cracked. He cleared his dry throat and swallowed thickly. “I… appreciate it…”
Toshinori offered a meek smile. “It’s nothing, really.”
Shouta tucked the ice pack under his hip, the cold bringing almost instant relief. As he did so, Toshinori sat down beside him and gently applied one of the ice packs to Shouta’s jaw. He winced, but the cold was soothing.
Shouta tilted his head toward Toshinori and reached up to take over icing his face, but Toshinori pushed his hand back down to his lap.
“No, you rest. I can hold it.”
“Yagi…”
“Shouta, you need to rest, and I don’t mind, really.”
“I don’t have time to rest...” Shouta could feel his chest tightening, and he drew in a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact that his face was no more than ten inches away from Toshinori’s. “I… have to teach a class... in four hours… and I’m nowhere near prepared.”
“You can’t teach like this, you’re a mess.”
“I taught after USJ, I think I can manage.”
Toshinori sighed. “Well at least rest until then. I can put some materials together for you.” He leaned in a little closer, gently adjusting the ice pack to better cover Shouta’s jaw.
Shouta almost let out a squeak. “W-what about your work?” he said, voice low and rough with dryness. “Something kept you here past 3 am, it has to be important.”
Toshinori turned a deep, dark red. “Umm… well…” he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Actually, I… had the police scanner on, and heard the dispatcher call out.”
Shouta furrowed his brow. “You… what?”
“She mentioned Eraserhead and… injuries at the scene… I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“You… waited here for me?”
Toshinori grimaced sheepishly. “I knew you’d be angry if I showed up there.”
“Are you kidding me?” Shouta’s eyes widened. He sat up straighter, pushing the ice pack away from his face. “You actually considered visiting the scene?”
“I was worried,” Toshinori said, eyebrows curved up in deep concern.
Shouta made a scoff on the roof of his mouth. “Yagi, I was there for hours! You waited here the whole damn time?”
“I knew you’d come back to get your stuff.” Toshinori started tugging on his bangs nervously.
Shouta huffed and shook his head slowly. “You idiot.” The hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “You make a hobby out of listening to the police scanner? Or is it just old habits?”
“Er… I… mostly just when you’re working…”
Shouta blinked at him. “You… you worry that much? ...About me?” He nervously picked at the fabric of his trouser leg.
What is even happening right now?
The flush in Toshinori’s cheeks darkened as he avoided Shouta’s gaze. “I care about you deeply, Aizawa…”
Oh… OH...
Shouta’s heart quickened. “...Really…?”
Toshinori looked down and nodded, setting aside the ice pack and folding his hands together. “More than… you might realize…”
“More than…” Shouta’s voice trailed off and he swallowed, his damn throat still dry as hell.
“I… probably shouldn’t have said that,” Toshinori said, barely above a whisper. His hands were beginning to tremble, and his cheeks were burning ruthlessly.
“Yagi… I…” Shouta reached over to still Toshinori’s trembling hand. “I care for you too… more deeply than you… may want…”
Toshinori huffed a laugh. “I doubt that…”
“Then go out with me.”
Toshinori looked up, eyes widening in surprise. “Go… out…?”
“With me. On a date.”
“...Really?” A smile tugged at the corner of Toshinori’s lips.
Shouta rolled his eyes. “Of course really.”
Toshinori grinned. “I’d like that. Very much.”
“Good.” Shouta smiled, relief flooding his chest as his cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Right. But,” Toshinori said, taking up the ice pack again. “Ice first.”
“Sounds reasonable.”